


Creature of Desire

by vondrostes



Category: FKA Twigs (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Harry, Cunnilingus, F/F, Impact Play, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Object Insertion, Orgasm Control, Religion Kink, Roleplay, Song: Mary Magdalene (FKA Twigs), Strap-Ons, Sub Harry, Trans Harry, Vaginal Sex, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/pseuds/vondrostes
Summary: “Please forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/FKA Twigs
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Creature of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for pretty heavy Christian/Catholic blasphemy involving nun/Mary Magdalene/Jesus roleplay elements.
> 
> I'm also not Catholic myself but I did consult some Catholic lesbians for help with this one, so hopefully it's satisfactory. c:
> 
> I've used FKA Twigs's real name because it obviously makes more sense to do so in this context. This is kind of a song fic as well, so if you're inclined, listen to Mary Magdalene by FKA Twigs while reading. This was one of the songs she performed on the episode of Jools Holland with Harry!
> 
> Twitter: @vondrostes & @vondrostesupd8s  
> Tumblr: @vondrostes  
> IG: @vondrostesupd8s

“Please forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned.”

It was a sin she’d committed over and over again, a sin that had accompanied a bounteous gift that Harry had openly thanked God for being given. Her confession had only come after being caught.

Tahliah stared down at Harry with a stern and unforgiving expression, and with the veil pulling at her hairline, it made her look even more severe. “Using fingers to penetrate yourself is a sin,” she told Harry. “And you must repent for your sins.”

“I know, Sister,” Harry replied obediently, her hands clasped in front of her as though in prayer already. Her knees hurt from kneeling against the unyielding hardwood floor, but she didn’t dare move without her Sister’s permission.

“A decade of the rosary,” Tahliah decided. “In penance.”

Harry immediately opened her mouth to begin. “Hail Mary—”

“Not yet,” Tahliah interrupted in a sharp tone.

Harry’s teeth clacked together loudly. Her thighs trembled from the exertion of holding herself upright, but she would not complain.

“On your back,” Tahliah instructed. “Knees up. Keep your hands clasped in prayer.” Tahliah unwound the rosary from Harry’s fingers as the younger girl clumsily got into the prescribed position, her plain black dress falling to the tops of her thighs, leaving her vulnerable and exposed when Tahliah nudged her upraised knees apart even further before sliding between them.

Harry couldn’t see what Tahliah was doing, but she could feel everything. She was still wet from earlier, when Tahliah had caught her with two fingers stuffed inside her pussy, grinding uselessly against the sheets, so close to orgasm when the door had flown open to reveal her Sister standing there, their faces inverted masks of shock and shame.

Her wetness eased the way for Tahliah’s fingers now, the beads on her rosary rubbing against her, inside her, as Tahliah pressed two fingers all the way inside while she used her other hand to slide the rest of the rosary against Harry’s clit.

Harry let out a soft gasp as the beads slid in and out of her, slowly, with Tahliah keeping the strands close on either side of her clit so that there was no escape from the stimulation.

“Now you can begin,” Tahliah told her as she kept up the rhythm of her fingers.

Harry’s voice was audibly strained as she started again. “Hail Mary, full of grace,” she choked out. “The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” She paused for a moment, breathing heavily, but Tahliah’s sharp gaze compelled her to continue. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners—ah!—now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

“And again,” Tahliah urged. “Nine more to go.”

Harry could barely get the words out by the time she reached seven, and at the end of nine, her legs were shaking from the exertion of trying to keep herself from coming as Tahliah continued to run the beads of the rosary over her clit and in and out of her pussy. It wasn’t a sin when her Sister penetrated her. It was holy.

“Last one,” Tahliah encouraged.

Harry started again, her hands clenched into fists. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” She paused again and swallowed hard, her breathing laboured as she fought against the tension coiling tight in her belly. It didn’t help that she was so wet that she could hear the sound of the rosary moving inside her. “Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” The ending was rushed as Harry stumbled over her words. Her clit ached as Tahliah slowly withdrew her fingers and the rosary both, and Harry could have almost cried when Tahliah stood up and stared down at her with the same cold expression.

“You aren’t finished with your penance yet,” Tahliah told her. “You need to pray.”

Prayer involved Harry’s knees digging into the hardwood again, her skirt rucked up around her waist as her pussy continued to drip onto the floor between her spread legs. “My God,” she said, shuddering. “I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee.”

Harry glanced up, finding Tahliah still watching her like a hawk, and she closed her eyes quickly, not wanting to risk further retribution.

“And I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments,” Harry continued. She squirmed a bit, repositioning herself so she was practically sat on her own foot, her heel digging into her pussy, providing much needed relief. She rocked against it slowly, as inconspicuously as possible, as she finished her prayer. “But most of all because they offend Thee, my God.” Harry’s breathing quickened as she felt herself getting ever closer to orgasm. “I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin.” She couldn’t help it now as she rocked down onto her foot even faster, knowing that Tahliah was watching and must know exactly what she was doing. “Amen,” Harry gasped out as she came just before collapsing into a puddle of her own wetness.

When Harry sat up again, Tahliah still hadn’t moved. “Have you sinned again?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Harry was sobbing as she replied. “Please forgive me, Sister,” she said again.

Tahliah didn’t reply immediately. She stepped closer to Harry, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her eyes so that she had no choice but to meet Tahliah’s firm gaze. “Women have a sacred duty to serve,” she told Harry. “Service to your own pleasure is not service to your God. Service to your fellow Sister is service to God.” She released Harry, who dropped down to the floor once more. “Anoint my feet,” Tahliah ordered.

It took Harry a moment to understand the request. She shuffled closer, her tongue extended as she leaned in close to lick broad strokes over Tahliah’s feet, cleaning them as best she could before wiping them dry with her own hair, as Mary had done to Jesus.

“Anoint my womanhood,” Tahliah instructed next, her breathing nearly as strained as Harry’s now.

Harry didn’t hesitate before lifting her head to bury her face between Tahliah’s thighs, her mouth hungrily consuming her Sister’s cunt, desperate for the taste of her, wanting to feel her coming against her tongue.

But Tahliah didn’t allow her the satisfaction. She waited until she must’ve been just on the edge of coming before pulling Harry away by her hair again. “Patience is a godly virtue,” she said before picking up the discarded rosary and meticulously stuffing it into Harry’s open mouth.

Then Tahliah leaned down, kissing Harry on both cheeks before whispering softly in her ear. “Kneel and unbutton your dress.”

Harry obeyed without question even though her knees were already bruised from the abuse they’d already taken. She could barely hold herself up now, but she remained upright as she reached behind herself to unbutton the back of her dress, allowing it to fall open until it was only being held up on her torso by the curve of her breasts and her outstretched arms, extended along her thighs to give her a bit of stability as she waited for whatever was coming next.

Harry shivered as Tahliah gently swept her curls over to the right side of her neck, fully exposing the uncovered portion of her back to the open air. She wasn’t expecting the first impact of the cane against her skin, and it left her breathless. She let out a muffled grunt as she dropped down onto the palms of her hands, unable to maintain her position as she fought against the searing pain.

The first hit was followed by another, and then another, until Harry couldn’t hold herself up at all any longer. She sank down onto her elbows, her cheek pressed up against the floor. She couldn’t breathe around the rosary anymore, her suppressed sobs making it impossible to draw in any air through her nose. She had no choice but to spit it out as Tahliah struck her again, and again, and again.

“O Sister,” Harry cried out while the blows rained down on her without pause. “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

Silence followed Harry’s desperate plea for mercy. There was no following strike. Tahliah had seen fit to relent. For now.

It was another long moment before Tahliah knelt down in front of Harry, her fingers under Harry’s chin to lift her face. “Rise, Sister,” she said gently, and her face had softened at last. “Your penance is not through,” she told Harry, “but I will not forsake you.” She cupped Harry’s face with her other hand, kissing her deeply on the lips for several seconds before drawing back again.

Tahliah was silent as she helped Harry to her feet. It was only after Harry had risen that she spoke again. “Close your eyes,” she said.

Harry obeyed unquestioningly. She found herself being led by the hand across the room, her feet unsteady as she made slow progress through the dark with Tahliah’s help. Finally, they stopped, and Tahliah let go of Harry’s hand. Harry kept her eyes closed. She hadn’t been instructed to do otherwise.

“You can open them,” Tahliah said a minute or two later.

Harry slowly blinked her eyes open to find herself stood in front of a crude wooden cross, laid out parallel to the floor like a bench, complete with restraints at three of the four points. Harry didn’t have time to get more than a fleeting impression of the contraption—which mainly resembled some sort of medieval torture device straight out of the Inquisition—before Tahliah was stepping in front of her to slide Harry’s dress down her arms so she could help her out of it.

Once Harry was completely naked, Tahliah helped her onto the cross. Harry was laid out on it upside down, he ankles secured to either side of the horizontal beam of the patibulum while her arms were extended upwards and bound to the stipes above her head. The wood was rough against her skin, abrading her bum and shoulder blades every time she moved in some futile attempt to make herself more comfortable, an impossibility when she was bound to a piece of wood that could barely support her weight.

It was impossible to see what Tahliah was doing once Harry was fully restrained, so her surprise was genuine when she suddenly felt Tahliah’s fingers spreading her open before shoving the rosary back inside her pussy. She clenched down on the intrusion, feeling the beads shifting inside her as she desperately tried to milk the tiny bit of stimulation for everything it was worth.

Harry laid there for another minute or two in silence, unable to see where Tahliah had gone, not even sure if she was still in the same room. Then suddenly, she appeared at Harry’s side again, an unfamiliar object clutched in her hands. Harry still wasn’t sure what to expect when Tahliah extended the object over Harry’s heaving chest, and it wasn’t until her hand tilted to reveal a wick, aflame, that she realised what was coming.

The anticipation didn’t numb the pain of the hot wax splashing against her skin, scarlet, like the colour of fresh blood. Harry supposed the scattered droplets might have resembled the results of Jesus’s agony in the garden Gethsemane, and then Tahliah was pouring even more wax onto her skin, eliminating any ability to think at all.

The wax was scorching hot, extending from her belly button to the dip in her collarbone. Tahliah saved Harry’s breasts for lasts. When her nipples had been covered in hot, dripping candle wax, the cross was complete, drawn over her torso like an inelegant brand.

Harry couldn’t even muster up the words needed to ask for mercy. She couldn’t do anything but cry, her sobs straining at the drying wax, making it crack as her chest rapidly rose and fell. And all the while, her pussy clenched around the rosary beads inside, her clit still hard and throbbing. Even after her penance, she still desired to sin.

Harry closed her eyes tight as she rode out the aftershocks of the agonising pain that she’d just experienced. When her sobs subsided, and she finally felt able to open her eyes again, Tahliah was no longer stood at her side. She swivelled her head around as much as she could manage, searching desperately for her Sister, only to find her stood at the other end of the cross instead, an imposing dildo extending from her hips toward Harry like an angelic sword. Covered in spikes, Harry realised a few seconds later, like a crown of thorns.

Tahliah reached under the wooden beams, her face screwed up in concentration for a moment. Then Harry found her hips slowly lifting as Tahliah adjusted the contraption so that Harry was lying at exactly the same height as her waist.

Tahliah carefully shuffled forward. The bottom slat of the cross had been pushed underneath the larger vertical piece that Harry was laid out on, leaving an empty space between Harry’s legs for Tahliah to occupy. Her fingers were warm against the insides of Harry’s thighs, and then she was pulling out the rosary again and wrapping it around the fingers of her left hand before making a fist around it. The rest dangled like a pendulum.

With her right hand, she carefully positioned the spiked dildo at the entrance to Harry’s now gaping pussy. Harry moaned loud and long as Tahliah pushed in slowly, the soft spiky protrusions rubbing against her in a way that she didn’t have the words to describe.

“Remember,” Tahliah reminded her. “This isn’t a sin. This is penance.” And then she shoved in hard, sheathing herself to the hilt inside Harry’s body in one smooth motion.

Harry didn’t have time to do anything but scream before Tahliah’s left hand came down with the rosary, the swinging beads—still damp with her own wetness—striking her hard over the dried wax, cracking it open.

The rhythm continued like that: a stroke in, a swing, a stroke out, another hit; until Harry’s voice was so hoarse from her wails that she could hardly produce a single sound even when she was coming, harder than she’d ever come before, her pussy clamping down on the spiked dildo inside her hard enough that it hurt, and still Tahliah continued to fuck her, continued to whip her, until Harry was coming again almost on the heels of the first, her voice now gone, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

When it was all over, she slept for three hours, and then rose again.


End file.
